Thursday, July 2, 2009

On the evolution of style, pt. deux


Somewhere in the middle of college I went through a "it's cool to look low maintenance" phase. Looking back this was the biggest blot on my reputation as a person of taste. Talk about dampening my style and softening all my edges. Ugh.

Here's the thing. I didn't want to seem into my looks. That kind of vanity was beneath a serious artist like myself. I was going for some kind of "natural, effortless" thing.

Of course, I really really worked hard at it. At some point I just stopped getting my hair cut and let it grow like a not really curly, not really straight weed. My clothing style incorporated a vacillation between androgynous and anything with a flower print. Most notably, everything I wore was baggy in a misguided attempt to look thin (as evidenced by the lovely people who insist on putting pictures of me on facebook, really, must you???).

I strategically applied makeup to look like I wasn't wearing any. I was way before my time with the "no makeup makeup" look. Yeah, I saved the big makeup guns for the stage where I over-applied like a champ.

The weird, depressive narcissist that I wasted my last semester on, broke up with me the day before my graduation. Nice. So in all of my pictures I look like a sad, chubby, mountain of blonde hair in a baggy, flower print dress.

I went back to my parents' house and cried for four days straight. When I finally looked in the mirror, I was horrified by what I had become. So far from my former, sparkling glory (and when I say sparkling, I do mean that literally. There were lots of sparkles).

The very next day I started doing step aerobics, got my hair cut off and bought clothes in a style I had never owned before (thank you Nordstrom Jrs). I kissed that boring sad sack goodbye and never looked back (again, the facebook thing, not helpful).

When my ex attempted a re-entry into my life, I stared at him through my brand new eyes that donned a color that practically screamed "I'm wearing makeup" and had the confidence to act like I barely remembered who he was.

There are no do overs. Only onward and upward.

With better hair and better style.

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